


Spin Cycle

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW text, Oneshot, PWP, Reader Insert, Sex, Smut, adult, challenge, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6669046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for @spnashley's John Winchester challenge. My prompt was "laundry". This cheesy piece of PWP is what occurred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spin Cycle

 

You stood in the middle of the kitchen, water lapping at your feet as you glared at your broken washing machine. You’d tried to fix it, to no avail, and had only ended up soaked. It was a ridiculous situation and you’d had to wait for Bobby to stop laughing on the other end of the phone before he’d agreed to send over his friend John to have a look at it.

There was no telling how this man would react when he showed up at your door and found you soaked to the skin, wearing only a battered old Thin Lizzy shirt and a pair of pant Bridget Jones would be proud of.

Served you right for being lazy and not doing your laundry beforehand. The only other thing in your closet was an old bridesmaids dress, that was at least three sizes too small, and hot pink to boot.

A sigh escaped you as you glanced over at the piles of clothes currently stopping the flood from escaping your tiny kitchen. That was one piece of luck, you supposed. Having enough clothing to build a dam against the tiny tsunami that had erupted when you’d opened the door of the machine. But this still wasn’t how you’d envisioned starting your first weekend off in  _ months _ .

A knock at the door to your house had you turning, and you looked down at your bare feet, groaning. ‘It’s open!’ You yelled, hearing the door click as the guy Bobby had sent over opened it. As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, an amused grin on his face, you just about died on the spot.

Of course, he’d be the very definition of sexy older man. Bobby couldn’t send someone hideous to help you out, could he?

‘Hi. Wow. Bobby wasn’t kidding about the mess.’

You tried to muster a smile, but you were too busy trying to drag the old shirt you were wearing down to cover your modesty. John’s grin widened as he watched your fruitless efforts. ‘Yeah. I, er, I tried to fix it but…’ He held up a tool bag.

‘No worries, ma’am. I’ve got it covered.’

‘Ma’am?’ You blinked at the term, and John chuckled.

‘Just bein’ polite.’ He stepped over the little makeshift dam of clothes, his eyes lingering on the purple lace thong draped over a pair of jeans, and your cheeks heated up in response. ‘Thin Lizzy huh?’ His sparkling dark eyes were zeroed in on you as he walked across the kitchen, his boots splashing in the mini-flood. ‘Always did like a woman in a band shirt.’

You moved back out of his way as he knelt down, opening the front of the machine. More water dribbled out, but he seemed uncaring of his pants getting wet as he got straight to work. You watched for a moment, admiring the ripple of muscle across his back as he pulled out various tools and equipment to try and fix the appliance.

‘Er, can I get you a coffee?’

He smiled at you over his shoulder, and you felt your heart skip at the charm dripping from the expression. ‘That’d be fantastic, sweetheart. No milk, two sugars. I like it sweet.’

‘I bet you do.’ You muttered underneath your breath, stepping carefully through the water towards the kettle, taking your time filling it up. John kept working, pulling something free from the machine and frowning at it. Leaning against the counter, you watched him for a few minutes, sighing.

‘Bet this is a real pain, huh?’ His voice was a little muffled as he worked, and you raised an eyebrow as he pulled his head out of the machine, looking over at you. ‘Machine always breaks on laundry day.’

‘What makes you think it’s laundry day?’ You retorted, folding your arms over your chest, grimacing at the wet fabric clinging to your bare chest.

‘You normally let strange men into your house when you’re dressed like that?’ He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, chuckling softly. ‘I mean, not that I’m objecting.’

The kettle clicked and you jumped, turning away. He mumbled something, and you scowled at the boiling kettle, reaching up to pluck two cups from the cupboard. At this rate, you needed something stronger than coffee, but it wasn’t even midday, and that may have qualified you as an alcoholic.

‘It’s been a busy week. Being as you know Bobby, I’m thinking you understand what kinda busy I’m on about.’ You didn’t look at him as you spoke, busying yourself making the coffee. You reached over for the sugar, adding one to your own and two to his, before you turned to get the milk from the refrigerator. ‘Ghouls don’t exactly wear easily on the clothes.’

John nodded, standing straight. ‘You got that right.’ He smirked, holding up a small piece of pointed metal. ‘And snapped daggers don’t go easy on the machine. This is your problem. It was jammed in the filter.’ You gaped at the piece of metal, wondering how in the hell you’d missed that. The hunt had been rough, but you’d normally remember if you’d stashed a knife somewhere. John dropped the shard onto the counter, raising an eyebrow at you. ‘Machine should work fine. Doesn’t look like there’s any other damage.’

You scowled at your own mistake, gesturing to the coffee. ‘Well, you may as well stop for the coffee now. God, what a mess.’ John chuckled, clearing up his tools. ‘And you’re sure it’ll work fine.’

‘I can prove it to you, if you’d like?’ He raised an eyebrow, and you frowned, watching him scoop up some of the dirty laundry from your makeshift dam, stuffing it in the drum before plucking your washing powder from the side. You smirked as he fiddled with the buttons and turned the machine on.

‘Nothin’ more attractive than a man who can actually do the laundry.’

John stood straight, turning to you with a darkened expression. Your breath caught in your throat, and he took a step closer, a filthy grin spreading over his lips. ‘Think I’m attractive, do ya?’

Your heart beat quickened as he came closer, his body almost pressed against yours...before he reached around you and picked up his coffee, taking a sip and keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching at your sides. He was less than an inch away from you, and god if you weren’t soaking your panties even more at the thought of those lips doing sinful things to you.

‘Mmmm.’ John hummed in appreciation at the coffee. ‘Just how I like it.’

‘G-good.’ Why was your throat so dry? Was it hot in here? Definitely hot. You felt the counter at your back as John put his coffee back down on the sideboard, his dark eyes still burning into yours. ‘Do I…’ There was a lump in your throat you could barely speak around. ‘Do I owe you anything?’

He watched you closely for a couple of seconds, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The movement took you by surprise, even though you’d been mentally picturing it for about ten minutes, and you froze for a second before melting against him. It was easy to relent to the demanding caress, his tongue pushing against yours with fervour as you moaned into his mouth. When he pulled back, your toes curled, and you held your bottom lip between your teeth whilst staring up at him with unrestrained lust in your eyes.

The washing machine burst into life, and you opened your mouth to speak, only to be shushed by John’s hand skimming over your thigh.

‘We’d better make sure the machine is fixed before we discuss anything like that.’ His eyes sparkled, and you nodded mutely, gasping when he picked you up, your wet feet hooking around his waist as he pressed in for a second kiss. One arm hooked around your waist; the other cupping your ass, and you whimpered as he ground the hard bulge in his pants against your soaked core, the panties offering little to no barrier.

In one swift movement he had you across the flooded kitchen, water splashing around his heavy footsteps as he lowered you onto the washing machine, your hands clutching at his belt, desperate to have it open. John groaned when your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his pants, grazing the tip of his achingly hard cock.

‘Been like this long?’ You teased, and he growled a little in response.

‘Since I saw you. Soaked through and barely dressed - you’re a fucking dream, Y/N.’

Your giggles at his words turned into whimpers as he pulled the soaked Thin Lizzy t-shirt up over your torso, yanking it over your head. His eyes roamed over your half naked body, your nipples straining hard at his attention. He swept his thumbs over them, smiling in amusement as you arched your back, pressing your breasts up into his touch.

‘Fucking beautiful.’ He whispered, lowering his head to suck one puckered nip into his mouth, using his tongue to tease you, his teeth scraping over your sensitised skin.

‘Oh god, John…’ You threw your head back, your hands fumbling to unbuckle his pants, desperate to feel him in your grasp. It was a stretch to concentrate on freeing him when his mouth was so expertly teasing at your breasts, alternating between each nipple until you were practically quivering for him.  He moaned deeply when you managed to push his pants down, allowing his thick length to jump into your waiting fingers, and the sound reverberated through you, sending a jolt of arousal through your centre.

His cock twitched in your hands, and you wrapped your fingers around him, running your thumb over his slit, through the precum beading there. He gave a throaty gasp as you pumped your hand, holding him firmly, and within seconds he was relenting his attack on your breasts, pulling his head up to focus those hazel brown eyes on yours. ‘Dirty little minx, huh?’

‘Well, it  _ is _ laundry day.’ You grinned, still moving your hand over his skin, relishing the quirk of his lips and the gentle roll of his eyes as you got him harder than steel. The washing machine vibrated underneath you, making you jump as it hit the spin cycle. John chuckled, catching your fingers in his own, moving with you for a moment.

‘I put it on a short wash. Just to check.’ John pulled back, wrenching himself from your hold, and you watched with lidded eyes as he ran his fingers over your belly before grasping the edge of your panties and dragging them down your legs. They were drenched with water and arousal, and you whined a little as he stroked your folds with one thick finger. ‘Is this for me?’

‘I wasn’t half as wet before you turned up.’ You quipped, leaning back on your elbows as he slowly slid two fingers into your slick cunt. ‘Fuck.’ The strangled grasp you gave only encouraged him, and he pumped his fingers into your slowly, groaning with you as your walls clenched reflexively around him. ‘That feels…’ There weren’t adequate words to describe the way he was touching you. His fingers were thick and long, and as he dragged his thumb up to tease at your clit, you felt your orgasm building in your centre. John moved forward, pressing himself between your thighs to stop you from closing them against his onslaught.

The washing machine was going hard now, and it only adding to the sensations swirling in your belly. You were begging now, almost screaming for him, and you knew there was going to be an embarrassing confrontation with your neighbours. The walls of these houses were paper thin, so no doubt they’d be able to hear your constant “uh-uh-uh-uh” “yes” “right there” “fuck” “yes-yes-yes-uh-uh-uh” as you came hard on John’s thrusting digits, his chest-deep groans only amplifying the thought that it sounded like a porno was being filmed in your kitchen.

‘Good girl.’ John praised, watching you pant and gasp for breath as he pulled his fingers free of your cunt. He lifted his hand, slick with your juices, and kept his eyes on yours as he sucked his fingers clean. The act had your insides twisting in renewing arousal, and you reached for his cock, twitching from where it protruded out of his pants. ‘Patience.’ He scolded, slapping your hand away. You wobbled and rebalanced yourself on the vibrating surface, just as John fisted his dick, rubbing the tip against your over-sensitive folds.

The noise that fell from your lips was loud and obscene, and John shoved forward, entering your slick channel with one hard thrust, burying himself the hilt. His cock slammed into your cervix, and you cried out again, the pleasure overwhelming as he stretched you open, using his hands to hold your legs up and wide for him.

You’d have to move, there was nothing else for it.

John’s thrusts were hard and fast, but he didn’t show any sign of losing his cool quickly. Your fingers curled around the edge of the washing machine, your head bumping against the wall with every thrust, and god, it was the best you’d ever had. The machine vibrated and purred underneath you, sending shivers up your spine as John obliterated every lover that had come before. His fingers dug into your thighs as he held them up, no doubt leaving bruises in your skin that you’d cherish tomorrow. His face was tense, his teeth digging into his bottom lip hard until it was almost white; sweat beaded on his forehead as he slammed into you over and over. The friction of his body against yours, the roughness of his pants against your ass; it all added up into a symphony of physical intensity that made you cry out for more.

Apparently you said it out loud, as John nodded, leaning down to suck your right nipple into his mouth hard, rotating his hips slightly with stroke, and goddamn, it felt like he was gonna split you in two. You pried your fingers from the machine, holding onto his shoulders and attempting to bring your ass up to meet him, but his hold was too strong. He was in complete control of your body and you had no objection to that as your eyes closed and he switched to your left nipple.

‘I’m gonna...uuuhhhhh -’ You didn’t have time to finish your sentence as your climax slammed into you like a breaking wave in a storm, sweeping away any cognitive thoughts as fireworks exploded, white and hot through your nerves, your blood singing with pleasure. And John still didn’t stop, holding onto you tighter, even when the washing machine beeped as his thigh hit the pause button.

He grunted, releasing your nipple, looking up to see your eyes barely open, your mouth agape as you whined and whimpered for him. He turned his head, capturing your lips as his hips surged forward, his pelvis flush with yours, and then, fuck, he was cumming, hot and hard and fast and filling you to the fucking brim with cum. You moaned into his mouth, feeling the brief scrape of his teeth against your lips.

When he finally released you, you were prepared to slide off the machine to the floor, regardless of the puddle awaiting you there. But John’s arms caught you, holding you upright and firm against him, uncaring that his cock was still hanging from his jeans, your naked thighs coated in his spendings.

‘Machine is...definitely working.’ You panted, your fingers curling in his damp shirt.

‘I’d say.’ John chuckled, still holding you up. ‘Got anything else that needs fixing? You know, while I’m here?’

You smiled, reaching up to cup his stubbled cheek. ‘Think my bed has a broken spring. Could you take a look?’

John smirked, tilting your chin up with one finger. ‘It’d be my pleasure.’


End file.
